


Griffin

by lilacSkye



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Mild spoilers for Edelgard-Byleth support chain, Multi, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Regret, idk what else to tag, let me know if I missed something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacSkye/pseuds/lilacSkye
Summary: Dimitri and Byleth find something interesting while inspecting the damage sustained by the monastery during the half decade of war. Revelations and heart-to-heart talks ensue.





	Griffin

**Author's Note:**

> Crappy summary and lame title, I know, but I literally didn't know what to put in it. Not entirely canon-compliant (I'm a wuss and still haven't gone through BE, I just know stuff heard through the grapevine). Honestly, I just hope it's readable.

Byleth's heels clicked eerily against the weathered stone as she slowly made her way through the long hallway, seizing up the ruined walls and broken windows, the only remaining witnesses to the savage looting and ravage the monastery had suffered at the hands of both time and thieves during that half decade it was left empty and abandoned. Her eyes flitted about, taking notice of the gaping holes and moulding spots in what were once luxurious, decadent even, tapestries and furniture.

The first few days in this new job experience, Byleth had nearly scoffed at the blatant pomp and splendor the monastery was so arrogantly displaying, all for the sake of a few filthy rich kids who didn't have a clue as to how a real battle was like. Now, she would gladly give everything she had, she would gladly exhaust all her Divine Pulses, if it meant being able to go back and prevent it all. She would rather feel a fish out of water for a little while, awkwardly orbiting around a world she didn't belong to, than to see those rich kids learn the ways of the world in the cruelest way possible.

Regret. A feeling that had grown upsettingly familiar over this last few years.

Her feet meandered on their own accord, following the ruined crimson carpet like a trail of blood, until she realized she had wandered all the way to the dormitories. More specifically, the Black Eagles dormitory.

Her throat constricted. Many of the former occupants of these rooms passed away. Many were felled by her own hand. The stench of death that filled her mouth made her double over, retching and choking as bile rose and burned the back of her throat. She forced herself to march on. She had to complete her evaluations of the damages the monastery had taken so it could be restored to its former glory as soon as possible.

Easier said than done.

The door to Dorothea's quarters was blasted open, filled with nothing but the grating, melody-less hiss of the wind as it filtered through the shattered window pane. No enchanting song to be heard, no graceful dancing to be seen if not for the billowing crimson curtains, but it felt stilted and awkward when compared to Dorothea's light steps.

Byleth swallowed thickly, regret and sorrow cloying her tongue. She hastily spun on her heels and moved onward. Fled. Otherworldly songs and coy laughter as flippant as a chime rang in her ears, taunting her.

So she went on. She all but ran along the empty corridor, but there was no running away from the reality that there was no Caspar to loudly yell about justice, no Ferdinand to flip his hair charmingly and discuss the leading role of nobility in the society with whomever had the guts and patience to listen. She wished she had. If only she had listened to them, had put more effort into knowing them, perhaps she would have been able to save them, to-

And then she came to a halt in front of a particular door, nondescript if not for the fact that it was the one door that was still bolted shut, seemingly untouched. Its inhabitant now long gone, it was the only trace left to prove Edelgard had ever been passing by these halls.

Byleth reached out, grazed the solid wood with a finger. Splinters pricked her finger pads as she traced the patterns on the surface. If she knocked, would Edelgard open from within? Would she even bother to answer the call? Or would she ignore it, focusing only on her studies and farsighted plans, too preoccupied with the future to care about the present?

She scoffed. She was being foolish.

She gripped the handle tightly and pushed. The fixture shuddered noisily, like a tired sigh, but didn't move any further than that. Between the lock and rust, it was firmly stuck.

"Of course." She muttered bitterly. She tried again, nudging the door with her shoulder and placing all her weight on it as she turned and pushed on the knob. Nothing.

"Come _on_!!"

She slammed against it, ignoring the pain flaring through her shoulder and side, even went as far as to kick it, with increasing desperation as each and every attempt failed miserably one after another.

She was so busy hissing curses under her breath and kicking up a racket that she failed to register the approaching steps until a voice spoke right behind her.

"May I?"

If she had a beating heart, it would have probably leaped straight up in her throat. As it stood, however, she merely started a little before turning on the spot, unsurprised to come face to face - or should she say, face to chest, tall as he was - with none other but Dimitri.

He was not looking at her. His attention was fully focused on the fixture that was proving to be such a massive hassle, his one visible eye dark and contemplative, almost mournful.

Wordlessly, she let go and stepped aside, giving him space. He heaved a sigh and readied himself.

A flash of ethereal blue, a blur, and the ever so stubborn door was sent careening through the room behind it, coming to an explosive halt only when it hit the opposite wall. It smashed in a heap of pointy boards and dust.

She arched an eyebrow, fighting off the urge to whistle. No matter how many times she saw it, and though she knew it was a touchy subject with Dimitri, Byleth simply could not help but feel amazed and impressed whenever she saw the Crest of Blaydidd in action with all its destructive might. Dimitri cleared his throat to dispel the now awkward silence.

"Well, it's open now, at the very least."

Despite it all, Byleth found herself smiling.

"True, and that's all it matters, in the end," she said with a shrug as she went through the now vacated doorway. "Coming in?"

He nodded stiffly. He followed her in, showing only the slightest hesitation when it came to step over the threshold.

It felt like a punch into the gut. Whereas the other rooms showed signs of looting and decay, fate had decided, showing a wickedly cruel sense of humor, to do all it could to preserve the room in its original state, mere days before the plan set in motion and war broke out to turn their lives upside down. If she squinted, she could almost make out Edelgard's silhouette in the dim light of the setting sun filtering in, sitting at her desk, working furiously and diligently at whatever assignment she was given. Only the window panes had cracked over the time, granting wind and rainwater access to this room - mausoleum, her mind couldn't help to point out - and to mould with it.

While the flames of war and sorrow were raging and devouring the entirety of Fòdlan, in this one room time seemed to have stopped altogether.

Byleth cringed when a loose floorboard whined beneath her tentative steps. It felt like stepping and intruding in a deathwatch.

"Goddess, it feels like she just left." Dimitri breathed, no doubt hit by the same realization. She watched him pace around, a large dark shadow tracing Edelgard's invisible steps in another time, another life. He came to a halt at the desk, sitting on the chair Edelgard had left vacated. Were it not for the thin sheen of dust coating the wooden surface, Byleth would have a hard time believing nobody had sat at this desk for the better part of a decade.

To think that here, in this very room, sitting at this desk like any other student, Edelgard's plan was taking shape, slowly and steady, like the retreating waters before the tidal wave crashed upon the shore, swallowing all it came in touch with.

Dimitri slumped against the back of the chair, craning his neck upward. He stared unflinchingly at the worn ceiling above, but his gaze pierced through it, through time itself. Five years. Perhaps even farther back. A scowl settled on his brow as memories stabbed open old scars that never truly closed.

"_El…_"

The sheer amount of regret in his voice was blatant as he rolled the playful nickname over his tongue, savoring like one would with a foreign dish they can't quite decide whether they do like it or not, and Byleth felt her unbeating heart ache when she caught a fleeting shine run down his cheek, a single tear as quick as lightning and as loud as thunder in the heavy ensuing silence.

She hastily turned away to give him privacy as he recollected himself, and in doing so her eyes fell upon the massive bookshelf resting against the western wall. Books of all colors and size were stacked in neat rows, the titles emblazoned on the spines in gilded lettering glimmering weakly in the dim light through the coat of dust that dulled their rich, leathery covers. From strategy books to economy manuals, Edelgard's personal library covered every topic a ruler should be very well versed in. In hindsight, Byleth had to acknowledge the young princess had hardly any real motive at all to enroll at the Officer's Academy; it should have been obvious her true aim was more than purely academic.

However, there was one item that didn't fit with the others. A tiny book with no name or author to display, pressed flat in the small gap between the very end of the shelf and a massive Fire tome. Nondescript as it was, Byleth would have paid it no attention if it wasn't peeking out ever so slightly, as though it had been squished there in a hurry, away from prying eyes.

A sense of anticipation and deja vu filled her as she gently tugged it out. The leather was worn and discolored in several spots, as though it had rested open a long period of time. Carefully, she opened it.

And very nearly dropped it the moment she saw the first page.

_Blue._

"Dimitri, take a look at this."

A loud creaking told her Dimitri had hastily rose to his feet, and in only a couple of strides he was already at her side, looming over her. Wordlessly, she handed him the book. He gasped as he took it, his eye, still suspiciously bright, widening in shock as it took in the sight of his own face - younger, rounder and with both eyes still intact, exactly as he was during his academy days - staring back at him from the paper.

"This…" he said, running a finger over the painting, his touch soft and reverent as though handling a crystal vase rather than a simple notebook. "This can't be."

It wasn't a perfect portrait, like one of Ignatz's - it was stiff in some parts, the cheeks too gaunt for his age back then, the nose a little too long - but even a complete layman in all things artistic such as Byleth could see the effort poured in every line, the care and love in every stroke of the brush.

Especially the eyes, with that heart-stopping shade of blue-

"She made this early on during our year at the Academy," Dimitri, the real one, noted as he lifted the sketchbook up to better examine the small writing in the bottom right corner. "I believe you had yet to join the staff."

Slowly, carefully, he turned the page. More sketches - charcoal, this time - filled the paper: a stern looking Hubert, a laughing Dorothea, a forlorn Bernadetta, a winking Claude, a flamboyant Sylvain and Ferdinand… everyone was here. Even Byleth made more than a few appearances, more often than not depicted as a majestic warrior, except for the one where she was busy petting cats and tending to the greenhouse.

But even a blind man would be able to see Dimitri was the one who starred in Edelgard's drawings - thoughts - the most.

"She used to love drawing," Dimitri whispered, his voice now rough and deep, cracking every so often at the seams. "Back then, in the Kingdom… I cannot count the times she asked me to model for her for hours on end. But she always refused to let me see her artwork by the end of it. She would always say it looked terrible and perhaps she should just drop it. I kept telling her to keep it up if she so loved it, and volunteered to model for her as much as she wanted. I can't believe I had forgotten all about that."

He let out a soft chuckle that sounded like a choked sob. Instinctively, Byleth snaked her hand around his wrist and squeezed in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

"She never stopped caring for you." She said, rubbing soothing circles against the back of his hand with her thumb. "Even though she knew you would end on the opposite sides of the battlefield, even though she knew you would end up hating her, Edelgard always cherished you. You were family to her. That never stopped being true."

He huffed, amused, but his eye softened. "I wonder…"

He flipped the pages to a particular drawing, the one picturing a smiling Dimitri, Byleth and Claude as they chatted amiably in the aftermath of the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. Edelgard wasn't there. Throughout her sketches, she never appeared once.

A suspicious sting made itself known at the corners of her eyes. She blinked fast to get rid of it.

"You know what you must do."

He nodded solemnly, his sadness hardening in cold determination as his eye met hers, so intense she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"The Crest system must go. Only then, humanity will truly know peace."

She smiled. Truly, he had progressed by leaps and bounds in such a short amount of time, it was impossible for her to keep the surging, boiling pride down.

"It's what El dedicated her life to… and my father as well, before his dreams met a regrettable end in Duscur."

"You will accomplish it. If there is anyone who can do this, it's you."

The corner of his lips quirked up in that lopsided smirk that kept rousing feelings and desires long forgotten in Byleth's chest. "You talk as though I wouldn't have died a fruitless death if you hadn't been there to pull me back on the right track."

It took all she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. There seemed to be no way for her to break through his guilt and sense of responsibility.

"Everyone needs a little help from time to time."

"A _little_?"

Despite the seriousness of the topic at hand, his voice took a lighter, amused tone. She shrugged.

"A lot, I suppose. But that hardly matters anymore. Besides," she added, sidling up to him and smiling when he instantly accomodated, lifting an arm and snaking it up around her shoulder so she could wrap her arms around his waist and rest her cheek against his chest. His heart thundered in her ear, and she longed for a heartbeat of her own to sing in tandem with his. "I'm here to stay. You will not get rid of me so easily."

He chuckled again against the top of her head, the sudden rush of air displacing a few strands of hair. His embrace tightened, to the point of almost turn painful, but she welcomed this sweet, sweet pain with open arms. He pressed his lips against the crown of her head.

"Goddess forbid that. I'm never letting go of you ever again."

She grinned. The ring in her pocket, the one who had belonged to her mother, felt heavy.

Slowly, reluctantly, she disentangled herself from his hold. He immediately released her, though his fingers trailed down to entwine with her own, not eager to cut all contact off.

"We still need to complete the inspection," she said, struggling slightly to keep her tone professional. Despite all her efforts, a blush crept up her cheeks. "Meet me at the Goddess Tower tonight. We'll talk more there."

She could swear he saw a flicker of realization flit in his eye, softening his war-hardened features. For a moment, the same honest and eager boy she once knew filtered through the man he had become, and it was such a bright sight Byleth felt like crying.

"I will not miss it for the world."

**Author's Note:**

> Dimileth is absolute OTP, true, but we all know ClauDimiLethElgard OT4 is where it's really at.
> 
> <strike>Why can't all my baes live in peace, IntSys, y u doing this to my poor heart</strike>


End file.
